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I then picked her up from that café and drove us to a private airport. I’d chartered a small plane to fly us the short trip to Rome. I personally don’t give a shit who sees me with her, but she does. She doesn’t want to deal with her father knowing about us yet. I’ve tried to tell her it’s better to just rip the bandage off. But she’s adamant that he doesn’t need to know right now.
I’m not going to push her to do something she’s not ready for. Besides, with the way my family gossips, it isn’t going to be long before our relationship is public knowledge. Which I know will be a blessing and a curse. Because the moment everyone knows about Kyla, she’s going to be a target. As much as women are supposed to be off-limits in our world, you always get assholes who don’t abide by those rules. There’s always an enemy trying to get one up on us, trying to take over territory, make a name for themselves. Then, of course, there’s a double threat of Kyla being a McKinley. She’s the heiress to one of the world’s wealthiest families.
My hand tightens around her, like it’s somehow going to be enough to keep her tethered to me. Keep her safe. My eyes dart around the crowd, looking for any threat that might be lurking in the shadows as we make our way through the Coliseum. I’ve been here before and wasn’t overly impressed back then, but witnessing Kyla’s reaction to seeing this place for the first time is like nothing else. Her face is alight with excitement and awe as she takes in the architecture, stopping to read every sign that summarizes the history.
“This is truly amazing, Lorenzo. Like it shows just how insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things. Think of how many people have filled these walls,” she says.
My brows draw down at her words. “Babe, there is not a single insignificant thing about you. You are very fucking significant, Kyla,” I tell her.
She smiles, and it’s not one of those fake, forced smiles I’ve seen her give to other people. But a real, genuinely happy smile. “When did you become such a sweet talker, L? If I would have known you could be like this, I would have let you into my panties a long time ago.” She smirks.
“Kyla, you only just turned eighteen this year. I would never have touched you before that, no matter how much I wanted to.”
“Well, gee, thanks,” she says, turning away from me.
“It would have been wrong,” I remind her.
“And now it’s not?” she asks.
“No. Now, we’re both consenting adults,” I say. “Come on, let me show you down below.” I lead her to the stairs that take us to the underground section of the Colosseum.
As soon as I find a secluded little spot, I pull her in, spin her around, nudge her back up against the brick wall, and slam my lips down onto hers. Her arms circle around my neck as she pushes up on her tiptoes and returns my kiss with a hungry fever I want to feed.
I groan into her mouth, reach up a hand, and cup her cheek. “I fucking love you, Kyla McKinley.” I smile. “I have always loved you,” I tell her again.
“Mmm, you’re not so bad yourself, Lorenzo Valentino,” she says.
“You know what would sound better than Kyla McKinley?” I lift a brow in question.
“What?” she asks me.
“Kyla Valentino,” I tell her. “We should get married. You should marry me.”
“I should marry you?” she parrots. “Why?” Her arms drop from around my neck and she pushes on my chest, trying to create space between us.
“What do you meanwhy?”
“You’re telling me I should marry you, Lorenzo. I want to know why you think Ishoulddo that,” she says, putting a hell of a lot of extra emphasis on the wordshould.
“Because you and I are endgame, Kyla. You should marry me because I know that you feel this too. This feeling that overwhelms me. It’s all you. I don’t breathe right when you’re not around, and when you’re halfway across the fucking world, I feel like half of my soul is missing. I want you to be with me every day. I want to spend every day with you, talking to you, hanging out with you… and not just over text messages and phone calls. You are everything to me. So, yeah, I do think youshouldmarry me, because I know you feel the same way. I can see it in the way you look at me.”
“I’m eighteen. I’m about to start university.” She shakes her head.
“There are plenty of good colleges in New York. I can get you into any school you want to attend—just say the word.”
“So, youwhat? Just expect me to up and move to New York to live with you? Leave my family, my sister, my friends… to go and bewhat? Your shiny new toy until you get bored and discard me?”
I blink at her. “You are not a shiny new toy, Kyla, and you know that. You don’t want to move to New York? Fine. I’ll come to Melbourne. I’ll buy us a home there.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “First of all, I don’t need you to buy me a house. And, second, you’d really move to Melbourne to be with me?”
“I would move to the pits of hell if that’s where you wanted to live,” I tell her.
“Okay,” she says with a smile.
“Okay?” I repeat.
“Okay, I’ll marry you,” she clarifies.
